“C’mon pet, I don’t understand. Why are you so angry?” Spike tossed his cigarette on the sidewalk as they walked home and moved towards Drusilla in the dark.
She whirled to him. “I can see her breath and taste her sweat on you. She’s all through you Spike.”
Spike thought back to his dance with the Slayer before he knew who she was. Oh, he had wanted her something bad and she had wanted him. If only they could have learned about each other after a night. Oh, who was he kidding? If he hadn’t found out, she would have been dead by the end of the night and if it hadn’t been for the bleeding’ city wide blackout, she would have been dead right then and there.
“She’s a bloody Slayer, Dru! I want to kill her, not shag her.” Drusilla looked at him disbelievingly and he continued, pleadingly. “Love. Don’t be cross. It’s been over a week!”
He held her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. “If I kill her, will you forgive me?”
Drusilla nodded and a slow smile began to spread across her face as they embraced. Over his shoulder, she spied a young couple walking across the Great Lawn. She spun Spike around so that he could see them as well. Words unnecessary, they began to stalk their prey.
She had been following the young couple since they entered the park, but kept to parallel paths behind them. They fit the victim profile and he was there, the Son of Sam would show himself.
The couple sat on a bench and Nikki’s Slayer sense went off the charts. She took a quick scan of the area and behind a tree, she caught sight of a heavy set man watching the couple as well. “It’s him,” she breathed.
With bold strides, she made her way over to the man. The metal of her sword banged against her thigh reassuringly from its holster. She began running through the fighting routines she and Steward had been working on in her mind.
She was so focused on the task looming before her that she didn’t notice her surroundings. A hand came down on her shoulder and spun her to the ground.
She shook her head and looked up. A man was holding her down and looking at her with amusement. Over his shoulder was a slight brunette, dressed like she was going to a costume party. The man removed his beret and sunglasses and spoke, his breath reeking of smoke.
“Fancy meeting you here, pet.”
Nikki tried to get up but was forced down again. “Spike.”
“You should really watch where you’re going, love. You never know what baddies might get you in the middle of the night,” he said to her with a smug smirk.
“Yeah, you never know.” Nikki bantered back. In one swift motion she dug her hand into the ground and threw the mound of dirt at Spike’s face.
Immediately, his hands flew to his eyes, trying to claw the offending particles out.
“Oh, you sodding bitch!” he cried out as she jumped up from under him. She began to run towards the demon that she had actually been tracking intent on killing him now that she had finally seen him.
“Going somewhere?” the pale girl asked, suddenly in front of her.
Nikki chose not to answer and swung a left hook directly for the girl’s temple.
Drusilla caught Nikki’s fist in midair. Her face altered into her true form and she began to squeeze. “Naughty Slayer.”
Nikki’s knees began to buckle from the pain. With her other hand she reached into her duster and withdrew a wicked looking stake.
“Goodbye, Drusilla.” Nikki whispered through gritted teeth. She rose to her feet and forced the other female to back down. She heard footsteps approaching her from behind and moved to strike.
“Dru!” Spike cried out with anguish as he saw what was about to happen.
Drusilla turned to him, haunted, but Nikki did not waver. She brought the stake to Drusilla’s chest and –
BANG! BANG-BANG!
Shots rang out close by and the sound startled Nikki enough to loosen her hold on Drusilla. The vampire tore away from the less than iron grip and ran towards Spike. A brief touch and they were both gone.
“Damn!” Nikki shouted.
Realizing where the shots had come from, she ran towards the park bench that the couple had been sitting on. It had only been a few minutes, but now the bench was empty. Nikki looked at the ground and she saw two figures laying there, prone and bleeding profusely.
“Oh, God,” she muttered as she kneeled next to them. She checked them for any signs of life
The man’s eyes opened suddenly and Nikki jumped back, surprised that he was actually alive. The eyes rolled and saw Nikki staring right back. He opened his mouth and blood poured out.
“Help us….,” he whispered as his eyes closed. His head lolled.
Nikki continued to kneel, torn. She didn’t want to leave them there, but if she didn’t do anything, they would die. She came to a decision and got up.
She pushed herself with all of the speed she knew she had and ran. She came out of the park and found the nearest pay phone and dialed 911.
“This is Operator Seven Three Oh. What is your emergency?”
“In the park, two people have been shot. On the West side near the seventy fifth street entrance. Hurry.” Nikki barked into the phone breathlessly. She hung up the phone and doubled back the way she had come.
The couple was still where she had left them. The blood flow from their wounds was slowing down, but there was too much of it on the ground and not in them. Nikki hastily removed her scarf and ripped it in half. She balled up the pieces and began to apply pressure to their wounds. The woman’s dark hair splayed out behind her matted with clotted blood.
Sirens screamed in the distance and Nikki closed her eyes in relief as the flashing lights got closer.
23rd Precinct – One Week Later
“Nothing,” the Captain stated flatly, throwing the files down on his desk. He walked around the two seated detectives to stand behind the massive piece of furniture. He braced his hands on the edge and leaned towards them.
“What about your contact?” Bregs asked.
The Captain sat down. Despite his age, he suddenly looked very old.
“He’s dead.”
“Captain!” Sullivan exclaimed, jumping up from his seat.
“I’m alright. He was a friend, but he was too close to the case. Somehow, the killer found out who he was. The boys at the seventeenth sent the files over.”
The Captain pushed the folders towards the detectives. Bregs reached for them and opened the first. She paled and passed the crime scene photos over to her partner. Even in black and white, they were gruesome.
“His body was already sent back to England as per his wishes.”
“So what are we going to do about this killer?” Bregs asked, putting the emphasis on the word ‘this’.
The Son of Sam had been caught two days prior. The city was still reeling from his shooting spree which had lasted just over a year. The couple in the park had been his last victims. They would have to live with the injuries they had suffered for the rest of their lives, but, they would have the rest of their lives to live thanks to the anonymous phone call that had been placed to summon an ambulance.
The captain was about to reply when the door to his office creaked open. A face peeked around the edge of the door and was followed by a female body.
“Captain Chanders, you wanted to see me?”
Bregs and Sullivan looked from the tall black girl and back at the Captain. She had obviously been crying. She shivered as she stood in the door in spite of her heavy leather coat.
The Captain stood and crossed the room to her. He embraced her briefly and closed his door. He turned towards the detectives as they watched him expectantly.
“Nikki, I’d like you to meet Detectives Bregs and Sullivan,” he said nodding to each in turn.
“Detectives, this is Nikki. Stewart Ripley was her guardian and she is who we need to eliminate this killer’s threat to our city.”
Bryant Park – Two Nights Ago
That bloody Slayer is ruining my fun. Spike thought to himself. He lit the last cigarette in his pack and stared at his surroundings, not really seeing them.
He was seated at a small table at the outdoor café behind the city’s main library. The days were starting to get shorter and for the first time, he arrived before the café could close. Drusilla refused to leave the Village since their meeting with the Slayer five days ago.
Spike finished his drink and slammed a five dollar bill down on the table and exited the park. He went to a street vendor and purchased another pack of cigarettes. He could have killed the waiter at the café and the vendor, but he was too preoccupied with the Slayer. He still wanted to kill her, but now he wanted to make her suffer.
Death for him at the hands of a Slayer would be fitting. He fancied himself the best; why not be killed by the best? But, she had almost killed Dru and he wouldn’t stand for that.
He turned from the vendor and removed the protective wrapping from the pack and shook out the first cigarette and lit it with the dying stub of his last. He scanned the front steps of the library, both admiring the ambiance and looking for his next victim. What he saw instead made him smile with real pleasure.
New York City Main Library – Basement
The door to his office slammed open and Steward jumped up from his chair. He grabbed a nearby battleaxe from the latest shipment of medieval weaponry he had secretly delivered to the library instead of his home. His expression of fear as he saw who had entered.
“Nikki! How many times do I have to tell you, do not kick open my office door?”
Nikki grinned at him. “But it’s always so funny to see your face when I do.”
Stewart gave her a disapproving glare, but its effects were lost because of the small smile that danced on his lips.
Nikki threw herself into a chair sideways and slung her legs over the arm rest. “They caught him.”
Stewart nodded. “Yes, I read the papers this morning. It would seem that the demon has left this poor man to take responsibility for what it did. My contact at the department assures me that he is quite insane now. But, now that that matter is cleared up, what progress have you made regarding Spike?”
Nikki’s good humor disappeared and she looked sullenly at the floor. This was a question she had been trying to evade for weeks. She had never told Steward about her two encounters with Spike. Now that the Son of Sam threat had been removed, there was no real way to steer the conversation away from the vampire that had eluded her.
“Nikki? What’s wrong?” Stewart asked, worried.
“Well, he’s a good dancer,” she began.
A thousand thoughts ran through Stewart’s mind as Nikki continued to pour out the details of her meetings with the vampire. When she finished, one final emotion stood out. Anger.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” he asked, outraged.
Nikki shrank back. She had never expected this from the mild mannered, corduroy wearing Englishman. “I don’t know!” she shouted back.
“You could have been hurt, killed. My God, Nikki, he’s already killed one Slayer. You haven’t even – “
“Oh, I see. You don’t have any faith in me. I’m out of here.” Nikki cut him off and flounced out of the room.
Steward sat in his chair, stunned. All of his anger evaporated. True, he was a little hurt that she hadn’t told him about Spike, but more than that, he was very worried. In the year that he’d gotten to know her, he had come to think of Nikki as his friend, almost a daughter. Every night he sent her into a battlefield that she might never return from and he feared for her.
Stewart stood and exited the office. He picked up his speed and by the time he reached the huge revolving doors of the front entrance, he was almost at a trot. He emerged from the library and saw Nikki’s retreating form on the last set of steps.
“Nikki! Nikki!” he called.
He wasn’t sure if she had heard him or not. Her step never faltered and she didn’t turn. Neither one saw the black clad figure standing in front of a street vendor and smirking as he saw them both.
The Next Night
After a whole day to think about the previous night, Nikki decided that it just wasn’t worth fighting with Stewart. He was there to guide her and she wasn’t doing her part if she was keeping things from him. He was the only person in the world who knew and understood who she was. She needed him.
She left her apartment and decided to walk to the library tonight. She needed time to think. The whole reason she had kept Spike from her Watcher was that she was scared. She was scared that she was not cut out for the whole Slayer gig. The everyday vampire was no big deal, but when something big came up, like the Son of Sam or Spike, she blew it. She knew that she would die on this job someday and that made it more depressing. She didn’t want to die, but she didn’t want to be the Slayer anymore.
When she heard Stewart’s voice, she knew that he shared those fears. She knew that those fears were justified, she just couldn’t hear it last night. She just lost it. It was the first time she had left his office angry.
She wasn’t angry with him anymore. She never was, she was mostly mad at herself for being so pigheaded. She glanced at the stone lions outside of the library as she bounded up the steps. She made her way down into the basement, eager to get the argument behind them.
Stewart’s door was open and Nikki resisted the urge to kick it open. Her greeting died on her lips as she entered the office.
She took in the scene. Something was wrong. All of Stewart’s books were in disarray, his desk upended. Every detail of the office burned itself into her mind, right down to his shattered eyeglasses on the floor. She dragged her eyes away from the carnage.
“Stewart?” she whispered.
“Stewart!” she cried out.
She looked around wildly, her thoughts a jumble, cool logic telling her that none of this could be real.
Finally, she moved towards her training area, careful to avoid stepping on the already mangled spectacles. Absently, she picked up a shoe that no doubt belonged to Stewart. He must have dropped this on his way out, she thought to herself. She passed the bookshelves that served as dividers between the office and training area.
She looked at the end of the room first. Nothing amiss. She stepped into the room and slipped. She fell down and found herself staring at Stewart’s sock clad foot. Her breath caught and she pushed herself to her knees. She looked at her hands. They were covered in blood. She began to tremble as she looked at her watcher. He was covered in blood too.
“STEWART!” Nikki grabbed the dead man’s shoulders and shook him. His head hung at an unnatural angle from his neck and now it flopped down so that his chin touched what was left of his chest.
Held there by a short metal barb was an envelope, covered in gore. She could still see that it was addressed to her.
He was surprised at how easily he found the Watcher. He merely walked into the building and gave a description of the man to a security guard and asked where he could find him. He trekked down the stairs to the basement and found the office.
‘Stewart Ripley’, it said on the sheet of paper posted to the frosted glass of the top half of the door. Spike had kicked in the door and saw the man with his back turned going over something on the floor. A battleaxe was at his side, but he made no motion towards it or the door.
Spike made his way over to the desk as the man was speaking and flipped it over. It knocked into the man’s back and landed across his legs. Belatedly, the Watcher turned and went even whiter with terror. “You’re not Nikki.”
“Oh you know who I am, Stewie.” Spike teased.
“Spike.”
“That’s right. I’m here for your Slayer, but since she’s not here, I’ll just have to kill you.” Spike emphasized the last set of words with a boot to the fallen man’s head, chest and back.
Spike put his hands under the injured man’s shoulders and dragged him into the back room. One of his shoes had fallen off along the way. Stewie wouldn’t be needing it anymore, he thought to himself. Even if he lived to see the end of the night, which he wouldn’t, his legs had been crushed by the impact of the desk landing on them.
He was babbling incoherently now. “Kill me. I’m not who is important. Nikki is the Slayer.”
“Not if I can help it, man.” Spike replied, drawing three railroad spikes he had held onto from the old days out from his back pocket. Looking around, Spike picked up a rather hefty volume of “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare” and tested its weight. “Perfect.”
Spike placed the Watcher’s left hand against the wall and held it in place with his knee. Placing the point of the spike on Stewart’s wrist, he swung the book at the top with all of his might. It went in past his wrist and all the way into the wall. The Watcher screamed at top volume and Spike punched him in the jaw, breaking it. The blood was flowing now. Spike resisted the urge to drink. He wanted as much blood around for the Slayer to see as possible.
“Take it like a man!” he growled. The heap of flesh only whimpered.
Spike repeated the action with his other wrist, this time tapping the spike gently, forcing it through tissue and bone ever so slowly. Tears dropped hotly from the man’s swollen eyes, but he made no sound. Spike cupped Stewart’s broken jaw in his hand and forced the man to look at him. He smiled almost genially. Almost dead, but now he was taking It like a man. He almost felt a pang of guilt. Almost.
He moved his hand up and to the right sharply, breaking the Watcher’s neck. He was dead now.
Spike rose and made his way over to the outer portion of the office. From the mound of things from the desk scattered across the floor, he picked up the Watcher’s date book. He flipped through it, looking for a blank sheet. He came to today’s date and read the entries.
He smiled and ripped the page out. He finished scribbling a little note, folded the paper in half and wrote her name on it. He went back to what must have been the Slayer’s training room. The irony of the situation made him laugh out loud as he went to work nailing the note into the Watcher’s chest.
She had turned twenty two yesterday, but she had forgotten because all of her thoughts were taken up with those from her argument with Stewart. He wouldn’t be able to tell her if she was the oldest Slayer in history, but she guessed that she was.
She hadn’t cried since this morning. She was through with tears. She was through with laughs. She was through with words. She despaired and was angry with herself anew for that feeling. She had been riding the subways all day long, thinking. She looked at her watch and noticed that she had been riding them for almost half the night. She looked around at the empty subway car as it rattled around her.
The lights went out and when they came back on, a pair of legs blocked her vision. She looked up and saw that familiar arrogant face.
“Hello, foxy. Want to dance?” he asked, almost gentlemanly. His hair was longer than it had been when she last saw him. Or maybe his spikes looked longer and sharper.
Nikki got up as the lights flickered again and raced at the vampire, throwing wild punches. Bastard. She felt the fear touch her heart as he picked her up by the lapels of her duster and threw her to the ground.
She was through playing games. This punk was going down. She rolled and got to her feet. It wasn’t easy with the train bucking across the tracks uncontrollably. She took in his smile and easily sidestepped his lunge. Saw that one coming a mile away.
As he passed through the spot she had been standing in, she grabbed his belt and threw him through the glass window of the car. She pushed him further, hoping that something would catch him and cut his head off for her.
Over the din of the train, Nikki heard a muffled “Oh, yeah!” He was enjoying this! That’s it, she thought to herself, reaching into her coat. She pulled out the stake that she kept with her always. It was her favorite. Pencil thin and deadly sharp. She moved to complete her action when the train lurched and Spike managed to get out of her grasp.
Every heavy handed fist was blocked as effectively by the other. He knew the moves she was going to make, just as she knew his. Nikki realized that she wasn’t going to get anywhere if they continued with this. She jumped up on a pole and used her momentum to carry her swing through. Her feet connected with his head, knocking him into the next pole.
As he ripped the pole out of its moorings, and gave it an experimental twirl, a smile on his face the whole time, the fear touched her heart again, but what got to her was that it touched her mind for the first time as well. He was almost right in front of her and she swung a fist as hard as she could at his face. Any other man or demon would have gotten the smirk wiped off of their faces after a punch like that, but Spike kept right on smiling.
Nikki stared at him, shocked. She was also starting to tire. As she fought, weaponless, she managed to avoid more blows than she received, but the ones that she had hurt badly. She saw the pole as it came down en route to her cranium and caught it just as it was about to smash through. Her hands holding Spike in place via the pole momentarily, Nikki hefted a boot clad foot into the nether regions of the vampire’s torso. So tired. But she couldn’t give up. Stewart would want her to go on.
As she thought of her watcher, she brought her fists up again and swung from her heels. He went down and Nikki landed on top of him. This time, she hit the vampire with everything. All of her grief, her anger, her rage, everything. The lights flickered on and off. Didn’t matter, she knew where his face was.
The lights went off again and she felt the train heave violently. She lost her balance and fought to stay on top. She lost that fight. As the lights came back on, she stared dumbly into his black ringed eyes. She was surprised by how blue they were. Her shoulders sagged and his hands were on her throat.
I’m sorry Stewart, she thought to herself as she felt the arrested breaths coming through her throat, fewer and further between. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be a better Slayer. I’m sorry that we fought. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. Her hands drifted up towards his, but she wasn’t really trying. His hands moved from her neck to the sides of her head.
She looked into his eyes again and acknowledged defeat even as he wrenched her neck brutally. She heard the noises around her briefly. The train had come to a stop. She knew that she was being moved and heard the sound of the doors as they closed again. The world plunged into darkness even as the train traveled on.
The End